


Control

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Vampires, Vignette, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 16:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17267216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Newly out of Insomnia, Gladiolus fears a problem.





	Control

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He’s been avoiding it for weeks, but there aren’t any weeks left, and the higher the moon rises, almost all the way complete, the more it gnaws away at Gladiolus’ chest. It doesn’t help that he’s still processing everything—the fall of his king, his father, his home and coping mechanisms: everything that would’ve once gotten him through the upcoming turmoil. He doesn’t have the heart to dump it on his prince, who’s still grieving and doesn’t need to hear the full extent of Gladiolus’ shortcomings—most people only know it in vague terms, and that’s enough for them. Or was, back when the Citadel still stood. Now Gladiolus doesn’t know what he’s going to do. He knows that Noctis and Prompto look so _innocent_ , chatting and laughing around the campfire, and it’ll kill him if he ruins that. 

Ignis is the only one that really knows, that could ever _understand._ Ignis is over at his little makeshift kitchen, dicing vegetables small enough to covertly slip into their food. It takes a surprising amount of willpower for Gladiolus to finally wander over. He doesn’t want to talk about it.

But he has to, so he finally mutters, “We’ll need to discuss a meeting place.”

“A meeting place?” Ignis repeats, sparing Gladiolus a quick look over the brim of his thin glasses. Gladiolus shouldn’t have to explain it—Ignis should already know. He must keep track of the cycle, because he keeps track of everything, and protecting Noctis is as important to him as it is to Gladiolus. But Ignis keeps calmly chopping, leaving it up to Gladiolus to say it all.

“You know... to meet up after we... ah, part...”

“And where are you going?” Ignis doesn’t even look up.

Gladiolus tightly answers, “Away.”

The knife finally pauses. Ignis slowly lifts his gaze, piercing Gladiolus with a look that seems to say: _Are you serious?_ “Gladio... I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that at the moment, Noct needs everyone possible at his side. He’s still in shock.”

“We all are,” Gladiolus grunts, even though he knows it’s not the same. He still has his sister. He knows his father died valiantly. _He_ doesn’t have to hold up the entire remains of a broken kingdom. “But he’s going to have a much bigger shock if he wakes up to his sworn shield trying to rip his throat out.”

Ignis silently lifts a brow. Gladiolus doesn’t take it back. He wants to believe he’d never hurt Noctis, but he knows that when the moon gets him, there won’t be anything he can do about it. He mutters, “Iggy, we can’t avoid the subject anymore. It’s not like we can trust he’s safe at home anymore, while I’m secure in the dungeon, guarded by the kingsglaive. Once the transformation hits, the three of you won’t be able to stop me. I need to find somewhere where I can’t hurt anyone when the full moon comes...”

Ignis turns away from the cutting board. He takes a tiny step closer to Gladiolus, closing what little space was between them. His voice comes out in a low growl, whisper-quiet, though Gladiolus had already been speaking too quietly to carry. For Gladiolus’ ears alone, Ignis hisses, “Need I remind you, Gladio, that you’re not the only monster by the king’s side? ...And if you thought I was going to allow a mindless beast to dismantle our prince, you were deeply mistaken.” 

As nice as it would be if Ignis could stop him, Gladiolus bristles, hissing back, “And what exactly do you plan to do about it? Because last time I checked, my wolf could tear your bat to shreds.”

Ignis’ eyes flicker towards the fire. For a few seconds, they flash a brilliant scarlet, and Gladiolus knows that’s not a reflection of the flames. Noctis and Prompto are still caught up in their own little conversation, blissfully unaware of the retainers’ tension. Satisfied with that, Ignis tilts forward, letting his chin slide over Gladiolus’ jaw, his lips close to Gladiolus’ ear. He murmurs, “I’ll tell you exactly what I plan to do. I’m going to bite two little holes into that thick neck of yours, drink you right up, and drain you so thoroughly that you won’t have the strength left to roll out of my bedroll when the moon comes. Then I’m going to watch you lying there, indulging myself any time I see you dare to lift your head, until the sun comes up and returns you to the harmless human you truly are.”

A warm, virile shiver slithers through Gladiolus. His throat burns from proximity to Ignis’ fangs, his vision clouding at the mere thought of their night. When Ignis withdraws, the ghost of his touch remains.

He quietly tells Gladiolus, “We’re not alone, any of us. We can help each other through it all.”

Gladiolus stiffly nods. Ignis curtly nods back, then returns to his vegetables, studiously making dinner for the three stomachs that actually require food. Gladiolus stares at the lean lines of his shoulder blades for a few seconds, newly aware of the absence of the subtle movements associated with drawing breath.

Then Gladiolus chokes out, “You know... any time you need a snack...”

Ignis dons a smile, answering, “Thank you.” He continues his work. Gladiolus waits until his own racing pulse comes back down, then goes to join the others in waiting.


End file.
